o fall on the head of the dishonored
girl. But, as in the rest of the work, the author has laid aside the
ordinary traditions, customs, and conventionalities, to draw from the
resources of her own genius. While all are preparing to expel the
domestic who has deceived every body by her air of candor and innocence,
the old man, whose reason has been wandering, listens. He recalls his
recollections, and his presence of mind returns at the critical moment.
He rises, throws his arms around his granddaughter, and naively recounts
the story of the seduction and abandonment of Claudie: how she believed
in Denis, and gave him her heart without distrust; how Denis shamefully
abused her confidence, and abandoned her, when duty obliged him more
than ever to be faithful. The old man adds that he himself had neither
reproached nor cursed her, but that he consoled her, that he took her
child upon his knees, and loved it, and despaired when it died. Finally
he demands who would presume to be severer toward his child, and feel
her wrong more keenly than he. His simplicity, magnanimity, and
goodness, overpower all who hear him. A more gentle sentiment than even
respect and pity takes possession of every heart. The devotion of the
old man raises the fallen girl, and in the admiration he inspires the
fault of Claudie is almost forgotten. But it is too late. The old man
takes the arm of his daughter, and leads her away with him. When the
curtain rises for the last scene, Dame Rose has retained Claudie and her
grandfather at the house, a riot in the village having prevented their
departure. Denis has come near being stoned to death. Finally he
consents to repair his crime by marrying her he has betrayed. He is
refused. Then Sylvain offers himself to Claudie, but she says she is
unworthy of him, and refuses obstinately. Dame Rose, Fauveau, and even
Sylvain's mother, try vainly to change her resolution. The old man at
last decides, by saying that he reads her soul, and knows that she loves
Sylvain. His authority makes her give a silent consent, and here the
curtain falls. _Claudie_ has been brought out in elegant form by a
Parisian publisher. Why should not some poet attempt a version into
English?

* * * * *

Several new Plays and Operas have lately attracted attention in Paris.
_Paillasse_, in five acts, by MM. Dennery and Marc Fournier, produced at
the _Gaiete_ in November, was one of the greatest hits during